


Closer to Fine

by kisahawklin



Series: Supernatural Season 9 Tagathon [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: episodic_supernatural, Demon!Dean, Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe in Miracles?, Fluff, Gen, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 22:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-S9 finale Winchester prank wars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer to Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clavally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clavally/gifts).



> Because Clavally prompted me and gave me terrible terrible ideas and then the only title that came to mind was an Indigo Girls song. /o\

It's not like things even changed that much, really. Dean was maybe a little crankier than usual, but as long as Sam kept the blade far enough away – not so far that Dean got the shakes, but far enough that he wasn't consumed with the need to have it in hand – things were relatively normal. 

The first splash of holy water was totally an accident. Dean popped in as Sam was filling up, and Sam jumped. Served Dean right that he got some splashed on him. It was just a couple drops, anyway, but Dean's eyes flashed black. All it took was one look at Sam, though, and the black was blinked away and Dean just started bitching to beat the band.

After, Sam started keeping holy water with him, close, all the time. He hadn't really thought twice about it, it was simply a smart precaution. Dean probably would've suggested it himself, if he hadn't been busy figuring out his next prank.

Sam knew most of Dean's pranks, though, so he was vigilant about his clothes and his laptop and his food. That's probably why Dean waited until he fell asleep to pull his trick. Where the hell he found nine different alarm clocks, Sam will never know, but it wasn't until the third one went off and he was tearing up his room to find the damn thing that Sam got the best idea ever. 

He had to wait until Dean got a craving for pie – still as regular as clockwork despite the fact that he no longer had to eat – and carved a devil's trap into the bottom of Dean's favorite chair, as well as cast one of Magnus's crazy spells on it – something that made the chair unbreakable. 

It took almost four hours for Dean to sit down. He ate his pie in the kitchen and immediately washed his plate and fork after – and then the rest of the dishes because he'd always been a white tornado kind of cleaner. And then he needed to go into a food coma, so he watched a couple of movies in his bedroom before he came out and asked what the hell Sam'd been researching for the last several hours that he couldn't take a break for _Spaceballs_.

Sam didn't answer, just pushed the book he'd be reading across the table. It was a stupid book, something about druids in Wales, but it didn't matter because Dean always assumed Sam only showed him the important parts. For a second, his hand faltered when he pulled the chair out from the table and Sam thought maybe he could feel it. He held his breath, but Dean shook it off and sat down, his eyes flicking wide and black for half a second as soon as his ass hit chair.

"Sam," Dean growled. 

Sam grinned, shoving the book close enough for Dean to reach. "Hope you like druids."

"Sam!" Dean yelled, and Sam could see the moment he realized he wasn't going to be able to break the chair as easily as he thought. It was a victory the likes of which Sam wasn't likely to see again. 

He turned and left, wondering how long it was going to take Dean to find the nail file Sam had hidden in the druid book. He wouldn't leave Dean more than half an hour – a pissed off Dean was a hell of a lot scarier these days – but he was at least going to let him stew in his own juices for a while.

Dean stopped by his room fifteen minutes later to flip the nail file at him. "Good one, Sammy," he said, coolly. He raised an eyebrow. "I'd think twice about sleeping ever again, though."

It wasn't a death threat, so mostly Sam felt it was just the right amount of upping the ante. He knew whatever came next was going to suck, but things hadn't felt this _right_ between them in a long time.

The crickets chirping all night long were not actually that bad. Sam probably could have slept through them if he didn't know that crickets ate books and paper. He couldn't let them get around the bunker or who knew what kinds of things might get lost. He bitched Dean out loudly as he chased them all down, complaining that their legacy was just as important to him as it was to Sam, and he might not have said out loud that it was because Sam was systematically looking through every damn thing in the Men of Letters archives to fix Dean, but he was pretty sure Dean got the gist.

That might have been the end of it, if Sam had let it go. But there were so many good pranks to do yet, so he tried them all, washing all Dean's clothes in salt water, putting iron bars in the frame of his bed, blessing the water in the hot water tank right before Dean's shower. 

Dean did find a way to get Sam with the itching powder in the end (on the kitchen towels) and he put some kind of hot pepper oil in the peanut butter which had nearly made Sam choke, but his most recent attempt – bleach in Sam's shampoo – had been unsuccessful. Sam smelled something was off before he ended up having to spend a lot of money to have his hair dyed back to its normal color. Still, he's grateful that Dean put bleach in and not Nair – he'd done it before, and it had been so devastating that Sam hadn't gone to school again in that town or the next, while his hair grew out of the tight buzzcut Dean had given him after.

Prank wars tended to just burn out – usually after a hunt when they were both in good spirits and willing to let it go, calling a truce while they were both half-buzzed and getting along easy. They hadn't been on any hunts since Dean turned into a Knight of Hell, and the prank wars were actually standing in for Winchester-grade normal, but Sam thought maybe it was time to let it go and settle in to work. They'd proved to themselves they were okay, and they had a hell of a lot on their plate.

He took the shampoo bottle with him when he tracked Dean down – in the kitchen, eating the hot peppered peanut butter like he actually enjoyed it. 

"Not funny, Dean," Sam said, and Dean tilted his head in that way that meant he agreed, but not really. He probably only agreed because it obviously hadn't worked. "I'm done," Sam said, throwing the bottle in the trash, a single easy lob that ended in a satisfying thunk. "Truce?"

Dean curled his lips up, something he only did when he wanted to give the impression of not giving in too easily. He shrugged. "I suppose, since you're such a whiny little baby about it."

Sam rolled his eyes. The nicknames and teasing barely registered anymore, they were so expected. It just made things feel more normal, and he smiled at Dean. "Yeah, kind of like when you were crying when I trapped you in your bed with the iron bars."

"Dude, I was not _crying_ ," Dean said, putting Sam in a headlock to give him a noogie. "You're projecting again."

Sam broke the hold easily and twisted Dean's arm behind his back. Dean was way stronger than Sam now, but he never overpowered Sam with his demon strength – he only got out of holds with standard wrestling moves, so when Sam pinned him face-first against the kitchen wall, he tapped out quickly. 

"Say I'm the best brother ever," Sam teased, turning Dean's own words on him. He hadn't meant anything by it, so he was surprised to hear Dean take a slow, thoughtful breath before speaking.

"Yeah, Sam," Dean said. "You're the best brother ever."

Sam let go, waiting for Dean to turn around and face him. He wanted to see Dean's real eyes before he said anything else. When Dean smiled at him, sadly, just the corners of his mouth turned up, Sam said, "You're the best brother, too, Dean," and pulled him into a hug.


End file.
